


Making Peace

by WideOpenEyes



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Captain America Sam Wilson, F/M, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Not A Fix-It, Not exactly Steve friendly, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Steve and Bucky are not endgame, Time Travel, Unreliable Narrator, old steve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-06-02 05:56:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19435288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WideOpenEyes/pseuds/WideOpenEyes
Summary: After the events of Avengers: Endgame, Bucky struggles to accept Steve's choice and adjust to the modern world. With the help of Sam, a few unlikely friends, a therapist, and Steve himself, Bucky begins to learn how to cope with his past and move forward into his new life.





	1. The Night We Met

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm not the best writer, but I had an idea and wanted to try it out. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Title: The Night We Met - Lord Huron
> 
> Chapter Summary:  
> Bucky attends Tony's Funeral, and has trouble re-connecting with Steve.

It had been a week after everything, The final battle, Tony’s death, and the undoing of the snap, and Bucky is still struggling to find his place among the others. He had been unsure if he should even go to Tony’s funeral considering his past interactions with him, and it took an emotional phone call with Pepper and some gentle coaxing from Sam to convince him to attend. It was a solemn affair, and Bucky watched from afar as Steve and the remaining Avengers mourned the loss of their friend. The sun shone brightly as Pepper slowly lowered Tony's old arc reactor into the still water. As he watched, Bucky stiffened as the memory of Stark’s parents, and a wave of bitter guilt passed through him suddenly. Of them dying by his very own hands. He had known Howard before. Before everything. The memory was followed by a rush of immense self-loathing, and the ever-present feeling that he would never truly belong. Here, or anywhere. A hand on his shoulder interrupted his thoughts, and he immediately flinched and shied away from the sudden touch. Bucky turned to face Sam, of whom the hand belonged, effectively removing the point of contact.  
“Hey,” said Sam, sounding concerned. “Do you need a minute? We can go for a walk if you want. I know how hard this must be for you, and I know no one will hold it against you.”  
Appreciating the concern, Bucky offered a small smile but resolutely shook his head. “Thank you, but I’ll be ok.”  
Sam looked like he was about to argue but then thought better of it. “Ok,” he said, “whatever you need.”  
After the brief interaction with Sam, Bucky resumed his silent observation. As Bucky watched the funeral unfold, he was briefly reminded of Sarah’s funeral, a small memory that had only recently resurfaced. He remembered Steve and himself, both so young and so innocent, he remembered a small service, and he also remembered cuddling Steve close that night as he sobbed into Bucky’s shoulder. His small body shaking violently with grief and pain, crying so hard Bucky thought for sure that he would begin to have an asthma attack. Through the whole night, even when Steve eventually drifted off into a shallow sleep, Bucky stayed awake, murmuring soft words into his good ear, and rubbing his back in large, soothing circles. Some part of Bucky selfishly hoped that after Tony’s service he would be able to comfort Steve like that again, to just hold him in his arms as if he was still 90 pounds soaking wet, and forget about all the horrible things that had happened. But as he watched Steve’s calm expressed break, and saw silent tears roll down his cheeks, it was Bruce who wrapped an arm around his shoulders and spoke to him in soft words. Sam, who was standing by his side (who had actually been standing beside him through it all lately) noticed the subject of his gaze and the sad expression that accompanied it. He nudged Bucky’s shoulder and gave him a kind smile. Bucky tried to reciprocate, but it felt more like a grimace. Sam, of course, noticed this as well, and as the funeral wrapped up, he nodded to a small bench tucked away from the main area. Bucky followed close behind him as he led the way until they ended up sitting shoulder to shoulder together, sharing the wooden seat.  
It was relatively silent until Sam finally spoke up. “Would you like to talk about it?” he said, indicating the pained expression Bucky was wearing.  
“Not particularly,” Bucky replied.  
Sam just nodded, and let the companionable silence stretch between them until Bucky stood up abruptly. He said a quiet thanks to Sam before walking slowly back to the main area, glancing briefly behind him to make sure Sam was following.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve had been acting strange to Bucky ever since the battle. At first, Bucky had thought he was imagining things, but soon it became clear to him that Steve was actively avoiding him. A knot of worry had been developing in Bucky’s chest ever since, after a brief hug, Steve didn’t so much as glance at him for the following couple of days. Bucky knew that Steve needed time. Time to mourn for Tony and Natasha, and time to adjust to the world, now that the snap had been undone. But still. Every time when Bucky tried to get his attention, just to talk or catch up, Steve would make an excuse and leave. Sam would often watch these interactions from afar, and when Bucky would mention Steve’s cold and detached behavior to him, Sam would just smile sadly and tell him to give it time. Deep down, Sam knew the lengths Steve when to get Bucky back, probably better than Bucky did himself. Something had to be very wrong for Steve to be acting this way.  
Eventually, Sam grew tired of seeing Bucky so constantly upset, and became annoyed with Steve’s lack of awareness. He decided to confront Steve about it directly and eventually drove to the new Avengers complex where they had all taken to stay. Steve’s floor was three above Sam’s, so he took the elevator up. He didn’t let Steve know he was coming, but the doors opened smoothly right as he reached the level, so he knew Steve must have accepted his visit.  
The first thing he saw when he arrived was Steve, standing alone at the entryway to his floor, dressed in a typical blue button-down with khaki pants. After only seeing each other in passing since the final battle, they quickly embraced one another as soon as they had the chance.  
“Hey, man,” Sam said, taking a step back while grinning, “Long time, no see.”  
“Yeah, It’s been way too long,” Steve replied softly, “I’ve missed you.”  
Steve went back in for another hug, but this time he held on longer, and much more firmly. For Sam, they had been apart for a week, but for Steve, it had been many years.  
Sam laughed and hugged back harder as well, before stepping back.  
“Although it’s so great to see you,” He starts, “There is something that I came to talk to you about.  
Steve nods and leads them into the living room. They each take a chair, and Steve waits patiently for Sam to continue, although deep down, he already has a pretty good idea of what Sam is about to say.  
“Alright, Steve. Well, I understand how hard everything must have been for you these past years, and even now with Natasha and Tony, and I just want to say how sorry I am. I truly understand, I do. I miss them a lot as well. But, Man, why are you icing Bucky out? He needs you, and after looking for him for so long, and after everything he’s been through, it’s not fair for you to give him the cold shoulder. He’s pretty upset, Steve.”  
“I know,” Steve said simply. “Believe me, I know. And I do plan on talking to him very soon, I promise. In fact, as soon as you leave, I’m going to give him a call and set up a time to meet. It’s just, I’m a mess right now. A complete and total mess, and I really have needed to think about what I’m going to say to him, and what I’m going to do. But I think I’ve finally worked everything out though, so I am going to talk to him soon, Sam. I promise.”  
Sam smiles, content with his answer, and they easily fall back into their regular routine of jokes and banter, Steve relaying all of the things that have happened while Sam was gone, Including many stories of Scott which had Sam crying with laughter. After about an hour or so, they wished each other goodnight, and Sam headed back to his floor, feeling better and more optimistic than he had felt in a while.


	2. The scientist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve helps bucky through a nightmare, and they finally have their conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! thank you so much for reading this fic! I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Title: The Scientist - Coldplay

That night Bucky had a nightmare. The visceral and horrifying kind. The kind that left him awake, screaming his throat raw and shaking in fear. Paralyzed. That night Bucky dreamed about The Fall. The feeling of just dropping straight through icy air, and expecting a painful death, but not so sure it will arrive. Above all, he dreams of Steve’s shattered expression, his body crumpled, hanging on to the side of the train as he watches Bucky fall. The crushing feeling that he is leaving Steve alone in this horrible cruel world, and leaving him with so much unsaid. 

“Please, Steve. Please, please…,” he whimpers, curling in on himself as though to shield his body.

The A.I. must have alerted Sam of Bucky’s condition because a few minutes later Sam is their perched on the side of his bed. He cautiously reaches out to touch Bucky’s shoulder, but the contact results in a heartbreaking wail from Bucky, who almost falls out of bed in an effort to escape Sam’s touch.

“Alright, Alright,” Sam whispers, backing away. Apparently, Bucky's touch aversion is present, even when he's half asleep. “You’re okay, everything is okay. Do you know where you are?” He asks softly.

When Bucky doesn’t respond beyond more pained whimpering and whispers of Steve’s name, Sam decides to make a call. He picks up the phone and dialed Steve’s number. A quick glance at the clock tells him it’s barely 3 in the morning. 

Thankfully, Steve picks up after the third ring. “Sam, what’s wrong,” he says quickly, knowing there is no good reason for Sam to be calling him this late at night. 

“It’s Bucky,” Sam said, speaking quietly and urgently. “I think he’s fine, but he’s had a nightmare, a bad one, and he’s pretty out of it. He keeps asking for you.”

The second Sam had told him something was wrong with Bucky, Steve was on his feet and heading straight towards the elevator. The knowledge that it was a nightmare rather than a life-threatening emergency took the edge off of his worry but didn’t make him slow down as he rushed to Bucky’s side. 

As soon as he reached the Bed, Steve sat down on the rumpled covers and carefully cupped Bucky’s face in his hands. Steve watched as his eyes flew open, unfocused and red-rimmed, eventually settling on Steve. Unlike with Sam, Bucky leaned into Steve’s touch immediately, seeming almost desperate for it.

“Hi Sweetheart,” Steve whispered, carefully pushing Bucky’s sweaty hair off of his forehead and out of his eyes. “It’s okay. It’s me. I’m right here, Buck, I promise. We’re both okay, you’re okay.”

“Steve,” Bucky whined softly. “Steve, I fell. I … I watched you as I was falling. I didn’t want to leave you.” Tears started to run down Bucky’s cheeks, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get them to stop. To him, the dream was so real, so painfully real.

“I know, Buck, I know,” Steve soothed, wiping the tears off of Bucky’s face with the pads of his thumbs. “I’ve got you now though,” he says, hauling Bucky up into a sitting position, and letting him bury his face into the side of Steve’s neck as he cried.

Steve shifted so Bucky was positioned almost completely on Steve’s lap, and let one hand cradle the back of his head. As soon as he was settled, Steve let the other gently trail up and down his side. Sam, sensing the intimacy of the moment, rose from the armchair he had been sitting in. He nodded to Steve and flashed a small smile before gently opening the door and slipping out into the hall. 

Steve, after watching Sam go, focused his full attention on Bucky. After the initial shock of the dream had passed, Bucky had managed to stop crying. But he had started to shiver, and periodically let out a soft whimper, all the while clutching at Steve’s shirt and trying to hide his face against Steve’s throat. Steve lets him cuddle up to him close for several minutes before gently easing Bucky back so he can meet his watery eyes. Bucky makes a small noise of protest at being moved from his safe spot but eventually allows himself to be pulled away.

“Hey, Buck.” Steve murmured softly, running a hand absentmindedly through Bucky’s hair. “How are ya doin’? Are ya feeling’ any better?”

The soft Brooklyn accent that sometimes crept into Steve’s voice soothed Bucky even further, and he leaned back into Steve’s touch, going completely pliant in his arms. “Stevie,” Bucky started, the childhood nickname still rolling easily off his tongue despite the fact his voice cracking and barely louder than a whisper. “I’m … I’ll be okay.”

Bucky leans over to glance at the clock and winces when he saw the time. “Oh God Steve. I woke you up so late. I’m so sorry. I’m such … God, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. You can leave, I’ll be fine,” He says dejectedly, wiggling out of the comfort of Steve’s protective hold. He turned away from Steve, so frustrated and embarrassed he was worried he would start crying all over again.

Steve sighed and reached over, settling a comforting hand on Bucky's shoulder, and gently moving him until they were once again facing face to face. His heart broke at Bucky's harsh words, and hated that Bucky viewed himself in such a way."Hey, hey, hey. None of that, okay? You have nothing to apologize for, and you know you would do it for me in a heartbeat.”

Yes, Bucky knew, but the voice in his head kept nagging at him. Telling him how pathetic he is, and how no one will ever want him. The voice always grows softer around Steve, but it never goes truly silent. His lack of response and solemn expression prompts Steve to quickly pull him into a tight bear hug.

It takes a second, but soon Bucky hugging him back just as hard. He feels as though Steve is the only thing holding him together at this moment, and if Steve lets him go he will surely shatter. 

Eventually, Steve eases both of them down, until they are both lying curled together in Bucky’s bed. Steve holds Bucky close to his chest and buries his nose into the back of his neck. Steve isn’t surprised when neither he nor Bucky ends up drifting off into sleep. Secretly, he had hoped he could calm Bucky down enough to get him to sleep, but at least he seems calm and relaxed at the moment, content to be held in Steve’s arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time Bucky’s alarm clock goes off at 6:15 the next morning, both supersoldiers had only managed to slip into a fitful doze for about an hour. Steve sits up first and turns to Bucky. He asks him quietly if he wants to sleep in a little longer or start his day at the normal time. Privately, Steve hopes he will choose the former based on the dark circles underneath his friend's eyes, but he doesn’t argue when Bucky chooses the latter and retreats to the bathroom without another word.

Sensing his embarrassment, Steve quickly scribbled down a short note on a small piece of paper and left in the middle of the bed before leaving Bucky's floor and taking the elevator back to his own room. 

When Bucky comes out of the bathroom several moments later, he is unsure whether to be happy or disappointed when he sees that Steve was gone. He almost doesn’t see the sticky note, but on his way out after getting dressed he spots a scrap of paper out of the corner of his eye. He carefully picks it up and begins to read the tiny writing.

Bucky,  
I’m sorry if anything that happened last night made you uncomfortable, and I’m sorry if I overstepped boundaries. I just wanted to make sure you were ok. Just so you know, you can always call if you need me. Also, there is something important that I need to talk to you about, so just call me whenever you can let me know when you are free so we can meet up.  
Steve 

After reading it twice, Bucky folds the note up with a subtle frown and walks into the kitchen to start preparing his breakfast, a large of a bowl of Lucky Charms. Since breaking free from Hydra’s control, Bucky has taken a real liking to sugary cereals and has been slowly working his way through all the different brands and variations that the modern world has to offer. Most of the boxes have been gifted to him by other Avengers who have found his taste for unhealthy breakfast choices to be endearing, such as this one, courtesy of Sam. Before the first Snap, Natasha frequently purchased him crazy brands and flavors. Now, he can’t eat Fruity Pebbles without feeling an unexpected jolt of grief. 

He inhaled deeply and clenched his hands to stop them from shaking. Every once and a while, the memories get the best of him, and he is forced to use the calming techniques Sam taught him.

Thankfully this time, he is able to talk himself down rather than fall into a full-fledged panic attack. His anxiety flare up was caused in part by his sleepless night and his growing fear of what Steve wants to discuss. Ideas bounce around in his head like pinballs, all terrifying and horrible. Bucky knows he should call Sam, who would immediately tell Bucky how outlandish his ideas were, and use his steadfast logic to convince him everything was fine. Instead, though, he calls Steve, who picks up almost instantly.

“Bucky? Is everything good?”

“Ya, Steve,” Bucky started. “Everything’s fine. I just was calling to … well to apologize for every that happened last night, and to follow up on that thing you needed to talk about.”

Steve hesitated before answering, but after taking a deep breath, he said, “First of all, as I said before, there is nothing for you to apologize about, Buck. And secondly, what I need to talk to you about, well, I don’t want to do it on the phone. Is there any time you can meet up and talk?”

“Steve,” Bucky said, trying to keep the pain and frustration out of his voice. “I have been trying to talk to you for the past week. It’s you who’s been avoiding me. Acting like you don’t even know me. What was that? How could you do that?” Despite his best efforts, Bucky knew his voice was shaking at this point.

On the other side of the line, Steve winced at Bucky’s words. “I know,” he said quietly, “And I’m sorry. Before … I wasn’t ready to talk. I didn’t know what to say to you or how I wanted to say what I need to say, and the last thing I want to do is hurt you. I promise, just meet me somewhere and I’ll explain everything.”

Bucky sighed. “Okay, Steve. I’ll meet with you. I’m sorry I overreacted. How about the garden on the east side of the facility? The one near the woods. Does 4:00 sound good? Maybe we could go for dinner afterward.”

Steve smiled at the last part. “Ya, Buck. Whatever you want.”

Bucky smiled a little too. “Okay. Well, see you at 4:00”

“See ya,” Steve said before hanging up the phone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
4:00 rolled around much quicker than Bucky anticipated, and before he knew it he was sitting on a wooden bench waiting for Steve. The sprawling gardens were one of Bucky’s favorite places within the compound, and he often went there during sleepless nights.  
Currently, he was sitting in his favorite spot, hidden underneath a sprawling willow tree. Steve knew about his special place, and should easily be able to find him.

As he predicted, he soon spotted Steve wandering passed the rose bushes. A small smile spread across Bucky’s face as he watched as Steve ducked underneath the low hanging willow branches and came to stand in front of him.

Bucky immediately rose and wrapped his arms tightly around Steve. Besides the night before, Bucky hadn’t been spending any time with Steve since the snap, and although Steve was at fault for that, Bucky was still ecstatic to see him.

Eventually, they separated, and Steve took a seat on the bench next to Bucky. After looking closer at Steve, all the excitement that had been building inside Bucky automatically vanished. His pained expression told Bucky that this would not be a light chat about catching up.

“Steve? Is everything okay?”

A pause. “Ya Buck, it’s just … well, I need to tell you something. And … and I’ve had to think a lot about how I was going to tell you because believe me, I know it’s a lot. Before I say anything else, I need you to know how important you are to me. How much I care about you.”

Bucky’s mouth went dry. “Steve, you’re really scaring me.”

“I know, I’m sorry, but just listen. I … you know that I’m going to return the stones tomorrow to their rightful places in time, right?”

Oh no. Nononononono. He did know. Bucky gave a small nod.

After a minute, Steve resumed. “ Well, after I return the stones … I’m going to stay there. In the past. And when I get back, I’m going to pass the mantle of captain America onto Sam. I want … this has been very hard for me, Tony and Nat being gone, and everyone else leaving for so long. I just … I can’t. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t be here anymore, you have to understand.”

Steve was pleading at this point, and he looked close to tears. Bucky gave no sign of acknowledgment so Steve soldiered on. 

“I was never meant to be here, to do this. I just want my old life back. I want to live that life with Peggy. I want to grow old with the person that I love. I miss her so much you don’t even know. And I’m sorry, but I know you have Sam, and I’ll be back before you even know it. Please, Buck, I promise everything is going to be okay.”

Accept nothing was okay. Bucky backed away from Steve so suddenly and so desperately it was as though he had been burned by his words. He stood in front of Steve, and although he kept trying to force them back, his eyes were wet with unshed tears. 

“Steve, how could … I thought,” he turned away, bringing the sleeve of his sweater up to wipe his eyes. He takes a deep breath, needing to compose himself. When he turns around, his next words are short, clipped, and emotionless. 

“What about me. I want to go back too. I would give anything to go back. The things I’ve seen. I’ve done. You were the only one who understood. Understood what it was like to be stuck in the future. Who understood me.”

Steve winced at how hollow Bucky sounded. “You don’t understand, I’m coming back. After I’m done I’m coming back, I’ll just be ... older.”

“Don’t you get it?” Bucky said, barely above a whisper, and his voice was steady even though he was breaking inside. “It will have been decades for you. You won’t even know me anymore. I won't know you.”

“Buck”

“No,” he interrupts. “How can you … I need you.”

“Bucky, you’ll have Sam. And even though I’ll have aged, you’ll have me too.”

Bucky shook his head. “Please.”

The look of utter hurt and betrayal flashed on Bucky’s face briefly before he managed to school it back into an expressionless mask, but Steve still caught it. It made his heartache. “I have to do it. Everything will be okay.”

Bucky was in a state of shock. It felt like a massive hole had been torn through his stomach, and when he looked down, he half expected to be covered in blood. “No it won’t” was all he said before he took off running, sprinting as fast as he could away from Steve. 

He could hear Steve trying to follow, so he cut into the woods. He weaved between trees and eventually heard Steve slow down and stop following him. Bucky still didn’t stop running. Not until his lungs were burning and the pounding of his heart was from vigorous exercise rather than the feeling of it being torn out of his body. When he caught his breath, he surveyed his surroundings and found himself deep in the woods behind the complex. He was standing in some sort of clearing, and the last traces of afternoon sun were filtering through green leaves.

He slumped against a nearby tree and just let his emotions consume him. Part of him (mostly the cruel voice in the back of his head) had known that something like this had been coming. How could someone like Steve ever care about someone like him? Not when there was someone like Peggy right around the corner. Bucky guessed he was too broken, too messed up for Steve to keep wasting his time with. Bitterly, Bucky wondered if his nightmare last night was the final straw for Steve. He was just too much of a burden. He just … he thought Steve was the one person. The one person who could love him regardless. The one person who knew the Bucky before. The one that was worth loving. That Bucky was gone now though, and the new person he had become certainly was no longer Bucky. He didn’t even know who he was anymore. Not when he was without Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it!


	3. Push

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and James fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Push - fog lake
> 
> Hi guys!  
> Hope you enjoy :)

He spent the night in Sam’s apartment. By the time he finally picked himself up off of the forest floor and made his way back to the compound, it was very late at night. As he was riding the elevator to reach his own floor, the A.I. helpfully notified him that Steve was waiting for him in his living room. Hell no. He was in no way interested in interacting with Steve, and he certainly didn’t want to talk to him any time soon. He quickly tapped some buttons on the elevator and had it redirected towards Sam’s floor. Thankfully the doors opened immediately, signaling that Sam had okayed his visit.

When he stepped into Sam’s living room, he saw Sam curled up on the couch watching a cooking show. “Hey Bucky,” he said, his voice even and calm.

Sam’s tone and cautious demeanor meant that Steve had definitely told him about what happened. Probably not the whole part about Steve staying back in time, but certainly about the fight that followed. “It’s James,” he replied coolly. That was another thing that he had figured out in the woods. He wasn’t Bucky. Not anymore. In all honesty, he hadn’t been bucky for a very long time but had accepted the name and pretended to be Bucky for Steve’s sake. Now there was no point,

Sam didn’t manage to hide his shock and subsequent concern, but he tried valiantly. “Um … What?”

James shrugged. “My name. It’s James.”

“Okay,” Sam said cautiously and with too much enthusiasm. “Well, James. Do you need the guest room?”

“Uh ya, thanks.” He tried to crack a smile as he nodded, but from Sam’s subtle wince it was probably looked as fake as it felt. 

“Great, it’s all set up for you. Do you need anything? Are you hungry?”

Even though he hadn’t eaten since lunch-time, he shook his head and went straight for his room. As Sam had said, everything was set up. The white sheets were crisp and clean, and the bed was perfectly made. There were even a couple of fluffy blankets folded at the foot of the bed, no doubt put there recently by Sam. After his time spent in Cryo, James had come to hate being cold and often burrowed under blankets during the night in order to ensure optimum warmth. Sam had gotten used to his unannounced appearances and strange preferences during James’ frequent visits to his floor. These visits typically occurred when he couldn’t stand to be alone, but Steve, his normal source of comfort, was on a mission. Because of this, Sam had taken to always having an extra room ready for him.

Tonight, however, Steve was here. James just didn’t want any comfort from him. This fact was undoubtedly picked up by Sam, and James could easily pick up on the phone conversation Sam was having with Steve, one that he knew was going to occur the second he left the room. Sam probably knew he was listening in, so he kept the conversation light, quick, and to the point. They hung up after a few minutes, and even though several walls and phone static, James could hear the exhaustion and concern etched into Steve’s voice.

James sighed as he climbed into the large, empty bed, and pulled several blankets under his chin. He ached all over, as though his grief had manifested itself into physical pain rather than emotional. He wanted to be mad, to hate Steve, and when Steve first told him, he did. But now, he just felt hollow, and so unbearably alone. Part of him wanted to hide under his mound of blankets forever, but he also knew that regardless of his personal feelings, Steve was going away for a very long time. No matter what Steve did, James was always going to be there for him. In whatever way he could. And tomorrow, Steve needed him to be there and needed him whole again. So he would be.

~~~~~~~  
The next day, Steve is set to return the stones, and that night, James didn't sleep. He laid in his too soft bed and stared at the ceiling. Even though it had been over 15 hours since he had last eaten, in the morning James has no appetite. Sam watched him warily as they both sat in the Kitchen. While Sam was eating a small breakfast and carefully nursing a cup of coffee, James sat at the table staring blankly off into space. 

At this point in their relationship, Sam knew that Bu-James (yikes that would take some getting used to for him) would sometimes disassociate, especially during stressful and painful situations. Considering the magnitude of his fight with Steve, Sam assumed that James was pretty stressed and in pain. Rather than call attention to it, Sam decided to let him be for the time being, and if the two didn’t makeup soon than he would try to sort it out.

While Sam knew that today was the day Steve was scheduled to go back in time with the stones, he was not yet aware that this was the source of the conflict between the two. He also was unaware of Steve’s plans. James still respected Steve enough not to tell Sam, and even if he wanted to, he doubted he could string together enough coherent sentences for his explanation to make sense. As of right now, all of James’s energy was focused solely on functioning normally. Judging by the concerned glances Sam was sending his way, he was not doing a very good job. 

After a few tense minutes, James rose suddenly. “I’m going back up to my room,” he said, his voice low and strained. 

Sam offered a small smile. “Okay, James. I’ll see you soon.”

James responded with a jerky nod and a few awkward words of thanks before quickly heading for the elevator. Deep down he was truly thankful for Sam’s hospitality, especially since James knew he had been acting strangely, and that his fight with Steve had left Sam stranded in the middle. 

After James punched his floor number into the elevator, the A.I. voice came over the loudspeaker. “Mr. Barnes,” the voice said. “I want to inform you that Mr. Rogers is still on your floor.”

James closed his eyes and tried to breathe evenly. Of course, Steve was still there. He thought he had waited long enough, but apparently not. Part of him wanted to redirect the elevator back to Sam’s floor, but he knew he had to face Steve sooner or later. He also really needed to shower and change clothes, and could only stand to do so in the comfort of his own room.

As the elevator beeped, indicating it had reached the proper level, James steeled himself for an uncomfortable conversation with Steve. 

All too soon the heavy doors opened. James peered in, and just like he thought, Steve was sitting stiffly in an armchair that stood on the opposite side of the room, allowing a perfect view of the elevator.

He looked exhausted, and James knew instantly that he had been up all night. Even though Steve’s eyes were open, he still startled at the sound of the elevator as though he had been in some sort of trance. James took a tentative step into his apartment. 

“Bucky,” Steve said as he stood up, his voice soft and barely louder than a whisper. “I just wanted to say---”

“Please, Steve,” James cut him off sharply, “Just stop.” His voice was harsh but otherwise emotionless. He was drained, both physically and emotionally. He already knew what Steve was going to say, and he didn’t want his pity.

A look of sadness flashed across Steve’s face before it hardened into one of determination. “No. I won’t stop. I know you’re hurt, and I’m sorry.”

“I’m not hurt,” he cut in abruptly, and he wasn’t. What Steve’s choice had done to him extended far past ‘hurt’. He felt as though he had been broken into a million pieces like his heart had been ripped right out of his chest. Rather than let the pain seep into his voice, he let his anger out instead. He definitely had plenty of that. 

Steve sighed heavily, sounding exasperated. “Come on, Buck. Really? Do you really think you can lie to me? I know you, and I know you’re upset. You have to understand, what’s here … it’s just not good enough anymore. The one person I love is in the past. I have to go back.”

Not good enough. Not good enough. Not good enough. James recoiled as though Steve had struck him, despite the fact that they were standing on opposite sides of the room. He had thought the knowledge that Steve was going back had absolutely destroyed him, but apparently, there were still things inside of him left to break. James could feel physically feel the last of his reserve start to crumble. Hot tears started to fall before he could stop them. Bitter tears he had been holding back since he first learned of Steve’s plan. He wiped them away quickly, but they wouldn’t stop so he turned away. ‘The one person I love,’ Steve had said. He choked back a sob.

“What about me?” He asked, hating how small and weak his voice sounded. 

“Buck,” Steve started.

“No,” He interrupted, voice shaking. “Please leave.”

“I’m sorry-,”

James inhaled deeply, his mismatched fists clenching at his sides. He needed to find strength, and if the way to do that was to be angry, then so be it. “Steve. Get. Off. My. Floor,” he spat through his teeth, trying to soak as much venom into his words as possible. Trying to somehow alleviate the tightness in his chest. He couldn’t breathe with Steve this close.

Steve hesitated but eventually Nodded slowly. He took a couple of steps towards the elevator. As he walked closer to him, James backed away quickly and suddenly, clearly trying to maintaining a wide berth between the two. 

Steve winced at James’s skittish behavior, hating the idea that he was frightened of him. He paused at the front of the open elevator and glanced back to look at James as if he was contemplating saying something to him. To James's relief, he must have thought the better of it and stepped onto the elevator without a word.

For some reason, he didn’t feel the slightest bit better once Steve was out of his line of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	4. Help me out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve goes back, and James leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Help me out - Alicks
> 
> Hi guys!  
> If it wasn't already clear, this fic isn't really Steve friendly, and it comes across in this chapter.  
> Anyway, hope you enjoy!

The next few hours were hell. James showered for a very long time. He had the water temperature turned up very high, and he spent a majority of the shower trying to parse through everything Steve had said to him. For James, Steve’s words had unknowingly confirmed his greatest fears. He now knew that no matter what he did, he would never be enough. If someone like Steve, his best friend in the whole world, the one person he thought he could trust, the one person he thought was there for him, couldn’t love him, then who else could? 

For the longest time, James had been able to push away the negative voice in his head with the constant reminder that he had Steve, and he would always have Steve, that Steve cared about him, loved him even, despite who he is and what he had done. He should have known how naive that had been. Why would Steve, or anyone else for that matter, ever be able to love him? Tears of shame pricked his eyes and he blinked rapidly to try to clear them away. There was no use crying about it. 

The rest of the time James spent in the shower was used preparing himself for what was to come. For Steve to actually leave. Even though he would be returning within a matter of seconds, James knew that after that moment, his life would never be the same. After that moment, he would be completely and utterly alone.

After a considerable amount of time, he turned off the shower and stepped out. He quickly dried off with a towel before slipping into fresh clothes. The next hour is one giant blur, as James spent all of it sitting frozen in a chair, staring at the wall on the other side of the room.

When he finally came back to himself, he stood shakily and checked the time. Steve would leave in less than an hour. At some point, James had managed to formulate a plan. He packed a small bag, filling it with a few items of clothing some protein bars. He also stashed a credit card that he had held under a fake name and a wad of cash into the side pocket.

With that, he grabbed a black jacket, threw the bag over his shoulder, and set out towards the time machine.  
~~~~~~

When he arrived, James saw that Sam, Steve, and Bruce were already standing in the middle of the green lawn where the machine was located. Bruce was behind the control panel, already fiddling with the buttons in preparation for Steve’s mission. 

Steve himself was talking to Sam in front of the platform. In his hands were all 0f the things he needed to return. From the other’s carefree and joking manner, James could guess that Steve hadn’t told them what he was planning to do yet.

When Steve looked up and saw him standing there, his expression morphed into one of happiness and relief, as though he expected James to not show up for his departure. As if James would ever let him leave without saying goodbye. As if James would ever, could ever, leave him. Even if it would kill him.

Steve immediately dropped his possessions and came up to James. Although his gratitude was palpable, he kept his distance as though he was afraid that James would change his mind and leave. 

With a lump in his throat, James plastered a smile across his face and said goodbye. He let Steve call him Bucky because that’s who Steve needed at that moment. He hugged him tightly because that would be the last time James would ever hug him. And then he just stepped away. He didn’t want to, and he knew that once he did Steve would leave, but he did anyway. 

As soon as Steve turned away, James let the facade drop. He didn’t let the grief and anguish he was feeling show on his face, but the smile he had put on for Steve’s sake quickly crumbled. 

He didn’t want to watch Steve leave, but the sound of the time machine powering up made him turn his head and watch. One second Steve was there, and the next, he was just gone. Crying couldn’t do James any good, so he steeled himself against the waves of panic and sorrow, and clenched his metal hand and gritted his teeth until he felt like he could take in a breath without sobbing.

After a few seconds, Bruce started hitting buttons, no doubt trying to bring Steve Back. When his actions didn’t have the desired effect, Bruce’s motions became frantic. His concern alerted Sam, who immediately began asking where Steve was. James had to turn away. As he turned his back on his friends, a slight movement caught his eye. 

Perched on a bench, a few yards off in the distance, was a frail old man. James clapped a hand over his mouth to muffle the anguished noise that threatened to escape. 

Sam noticed his new position and followed his eyes until he too saw Steve. At first, it didn’t register for Sam, but out of the corner of his eye, James saw the exact moment when Sam finally understood what had happened. A mix of shock and hurt flashed across Sam's face, and he quickly turned to James to see what his reaction was. The pieces had finally fallen into place about the cause of James’s argument with Steve, and now Sam knew why James had been so distressed earlier. 

However, when Sam searched James’s face for signs of upset or sadness, James was ready for it and had already set his face into an emotionless mask. “Go ‘head,” he said nodding in Steve’s direction.

Sam hesitated briefly, looking to James one more time for confirmation before slowly walking across the lawn to reach Steve. James watched him go. He had nothing to say to Steve, and the shield-shaped bag that Steve had tucked next to the bench verified his suspicions that Steve would be passing on the mantle to Sam. Steve couldn’t continue to be Captain America, not when he looked like he was pushing 90. 

James watched their interaction numbly but found that when Steve offered Sam the shield, a sense of admiration and pride for his friend managed to break through his haze of grief. When Sam looked back at him, no doubt waiting for his approval, James just nodded. He knew that Sam deserved the shield, and refused to let his inner turmoil take away from Sam’s moment. 

He tried, he really did, but as soon as Steve turned back to look at him as well, James just lost his grip. For the first time, he saw Steve’s face, his Steve’s Face, wrinkled and old. The full reality stunned him, and he turned away as his breath hitched and his vision blurred with unshed tears. 

Wiping his eyes and taking in a shuddering breath, he walked away briskly. Behind him, he heard Sam’s voice calling out to him, followed by Steve’s. James could hear Steve’s age in his voice, once velvety and rich and now brittle and halting. The sound made him walk faster. Bruce regarded him with a look but said nothing as James breezed by him on his way back into the compound. 

Once inside, he punched in the numbers and waited for the elevator to bring him to his floor. If felt like forever, but finally the doors opened, and he stepped into his living room.

He needed to talk to Steve, even though that was the absolute last thing he was interested in doing. Despite his reservations, James knew that there were things that needed to be said, and he also needed something from Steve. A set of keys to be exact. James also knew that Steve would eventually come up to his room to clear the air, at least once his guilty consciences became too much for him to handle. That meant all he had to do was wait. 

He wasn’t hungry, but as he waited for Steve, he forced himself to choke down a couple of protein bars. When he had first become free from Hydra’s control, they were all he had eaten. Thankfully, Sam had noticed and had helped to get him acclimated to other foods. Even though he now didn’t rely on them as his main source of food, he still had a sizable stash of them and ate them when the thought of consuming real food made his stomach roll. 

James spent the next hour checking his packed bag and staring pensively into space. Eventually, the A.I.’s voice came over the loudspeaker, saying, “Mr. Barnes, Mr. Rogers has boarded the elevator, and is coming up to your floor.”

James took a deep breath and mumbled a quiet “thank you” before standing up and heading to the elevator doors. Just because he had to speak to Steve didn’t mean he had to be hospitable or stay long. In fact, he intended to say the bare minimum before getting out of there. His grief and sadness had been mostly replaced with bitter anger and something that bordered on the excitement at the thought of his plan. 

After a tense moment, the doors creaked open, revealing Steve, who was leaning heavily against the railing that went around the elevator. For a minute, neither of them spoke, and Steve made no move to step onto his floor. 

It was finally James who got impatient and motioned for Steve to come closer. He still maintained a wide berth, but finally stepped off of the elevator. Steve looked nervous. He damn well should be nervous, James thought bitterly, and walked towards his living room, glancing behind him to make sure Steve was following. They both sat across from each other in matching armchairs. 

The silence was thick between them. and James watched coolly as Steve fidgeted in clear discomfort. He was trying to find the right thing to break the silence but failing. He looked to James, in a desperate plea for him to speak first, but James refused to help him.

Eventually, Steve sighed. “Look, Bucky,” he started, but James cut him off quickly. 

“It’s James.”

Steve tried again. “Fine. James,” He said, sounding out the name like he was hearing it for the first time, “I just wanted to make sure that you were doing okay. I know you’re upset, and you have every right to be, but I hope that one day you can forgive me.”

“Did you rehearse that,” James said coldly, his eyes hard and searching.

Steve winced and looked like he was about to say something, But James interrupted him again. “Was it worth it?” he said, fighting to keep any emotion out of his voice.

“Yes,” Steve said after a long moment, appearing lost in thought. James looked down and suppressed a wave of nausea at the sight of a gold wedding band wrapped around Steve's ring finger.

James nodded slowly. “I need something from you,” he said, looking up.

“Yes. Whatever you need,” Steve said quickly, a soft warmness creeping into his voice.

“Give me your keys.”

The request baffled Steve. “To my motorcycle?” He guessed, sounding confused.

“Yeah,” James said.

“Well, they’re on my floor.”

“Then go get them,” James said, finally letting some of his endless anger seep into his voice.

“Okay,” Steve said softly, sounding slightly concerned. He rose stiffly before heading back to the elevator and stepping on.

A few minutes later he returned and promptly walked back into the living room. James rose to meet him and held out his hand expectantly. Steve brought the keys up and dropped them into James’s open palm. 

Once he had the keys in hand, James grabbed his backpack and started walking toward the elevator.

“Are you leaving?” Steve asked incredulously, moving to follow him.

“Yep,” James replied casually, throwing a glance over his shoulder as he continued walking.

“B-James, wait,” Steve called.

“Sorry, Steve,” James replied, hesitating slightly, “but I have places to be.”

“Really?” Steve said. “I just got back and you don’t have anything to say?”

“As far as I’m concerned, we’ve already said everything we’ve needed to say. I’m done talking to you.” James’s light tone was at odds with the words coming out of his mouth.

“Why are you being so immature about this?” Steve said, raising his voice as he began to get frustrated. “You can’t just leave whenever your feelings get hurt. You have to fulfill your responsibilities.”

James bristled and made his metal hand into a clenched fist at his side. “What, like you?” he said, spinning around to face Steve. His voice was sarcastically cheerful as he vibrated with barely restrained rage. “You left. You have no right to tell me what I can and can’t do.”

James reached into his backpack and pulled out his phone. “And by the way,” he said holding his only cell phone up in front of Steve and crushing it to dust with his metal hand, “Don’t bother calling.”

With that, James turned on his heel and stalked towards the elevator, leaving Steve standing there in the living room.

The doors opened, but before he could get on, he heard Steve’s voice.

“Are you coming back?” Steve called to him.

James entered the elevator and turned around, flashing Steve his first smile of the week. “Don’t know!” he said brightly as he watched the doors close on Steve’s Stunned expression, and continued smiling as the elevator began its slow descent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter:  
> James goes on a road trip


	5. Ribs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James gets a haircut and enjoys the open road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title:  
> Ribs -Lorde
> 
> Hey guys! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Getting out of the compound and onto the road was surprisingly easy. After making a quick stop at Sam’s floor to both explain what he was doing and congratulate him, James just simply walked into the garage and took the bike. 

He passed through the gate without much trouble, much to his surprise. James thought for sure that someone would try to stop him, especially because he wasn’t technically allowed to leave the compound. 

Although it had never been stated specifically, James had always had the feeling that everyone would much rather he stay out of sight. His relationship with the public was shaky at best, and there was still a slight chance that he was still considered a wanted criminal. 

Thankfully, his long sleeves and leather gloves conveniently kept his metal arm hidden, and an old baseball cap shielded his face and hid his distinguishable hair. The ridiculous disguise reminded him of his time spent in Bucharest. 

The roads were busy for rural New York, but once James pulled onto the highway, he felt so far away from everyone and everything. The rumble of the motorcycle engine and the sharp sound of other cars whizzing by at top speeds were the only sounds James heard for miles. 

Traveling on the open road, with no goal, no destination, just the wind whipping through his hair and the scenery bleeding together on either side as he sped by. He felt, maybe for the first time since the 1930s, completely at peace.

~~~~~

After traveling for just under an hour, James pulled off of the main highway and followed the winding back roads until he reached the center of a small town. Several brightly painted signs announced that he had found his way to Walton, New York. 

Small shops lined both sides of the narrow road, and it didn’t take James long to spot a hair salon tucked between a flower shop and a bakery. The storefront was an inviting pink with spotless picture windows and a large, striped awning.

James parked the motorcycle in a nearby parking lot and soon found himself standing outside the front doors. He peered in through the large glass windows and quickly assessed any possible risks. 

Thankfully, the small salon was mostly empty. An older woman sat in one of the chairs in the back, getting her haircut by a small woman with wavy blonde hair and tacky red lipstick. Threat level low, James thought.

A girl sat at the front desk, her pin-straight black hair pulled into a high ponytail. James guessed that her age was about 17. Threat level also low. 

Both workers were wearing blue aprons. They and the ominous black chairs were reminiscent of the maintenance he received while working as Hydra’s puppet. James’s jaw clenched. 

He had to stop and swallow down a small wave of panic. Eventually, James gathered enough courage and gently pushed the front door open. He jumped slightly when the gold bell at the top of the door jingled. 

The noise also startled the front desk girl, and she quickly looked up from studying her perfectly manicured nails. Her name tag reads Shelby.

“Hello, Sir,” She said brightly, smacking a piece of pink bubble between her white teeth. “What can I do for you today?”

“Just a haircut,” James replied, his voice low and soft. He kept his head tilted down. He couldn’t meet her eyes.

“Okay, Sir. Can I have your home phone number?” Shelby said, giving him an appraising look.

“I’ve … never been here before,” James replied slowly, “I wouldn’t have an account. I just need a haircut.”

Shelby tilted her head slightly. “Well that’s fine, but we still need your phone number.”

James fought the urge to turn on his heel and book it. The necessity of the haircut took priority. “I … am sorry but I don’t really have a phone. Can you please just do me a favor and let it slide?”

Shelby studied him a little more, and he tried not to curl in on himself and hide. He really didn’t like her searching gaze. Didn’t like what it would find. 

Maybe his discomfort helped him after all because after a while she took pity on him and nodded. “Alright, Sir. Well, a cut will be $20, and if you want a shave that’ll be an extra $10.”

“Just a cut, please,” James said, sliding her a crumpled $20 bill, “And it’s Jay, by the way.”

Shelby took the money and typed something into her computer before motioning for him to sit down in the waiting area. 

The brightly colored chairs were surprisingly comfortable, and once settled, James reached over to grab a men’s hairstyle pamphlet. Despite the certainty that he needed a haircut, he hadn’t really thought about what style he wanted it in. 

He definitely did not want something that would stand out too much. He had considered shaving his beard but had decided against it. As the winter soldier, they always made sure he was clean-shaven. It was a choice he was reclaiming now that he was free from their control.

Although he wanted shorter hair, he did not want to look like Bucky. Like the Bucky in the museum and the Bucky in the history books. He might not be the Asset anymore, but he sure isn’t that fresh-faced soldier either.

The hairstyle he ends up choosing is fairly simple; a short style that’s longer on the top and shorter on the sides. It’s closer to a Bucky Haircut than he had originally wanted, but he thought the beard would balance it out.

When the hairdresser finally calls him up, he brings the pamphlet up with him as he goes up to meet her. 

“Hello, Sir!” She said happily, “What can I do for you today?”

The sound of her thick Irish accent made James stumble back a step. For a minute, he swore it was 1931, and he and Steve were standing in a cramped kitchen while Sarah made them both dinner. Her lilting voice washed over them as she sang along to a soft song on the radio. He wanted nothing more than to go back in time; to that exact moment. Before Sarah got sick, before Pearl Harbor, before everything.

He snapped out of his daze quickly and took a deep, steadying breath. “Just this,” James said, trying to keep his voice even. He handed her the pamphlet and pointed at the cut he wanted.

The lady nods and James knows it’s time to get into the chair. The only problem is that he doesn’t know if he can. He spares a quick glance at the lady (her name tag reads: Marybeth). He wants to stall longer, but he doesn’t want to raise any alarms.

James sucks in a quick breath through clenched teeth and slides into the black leather chair. Marybeth wraps a black barber’s cape around his neck and quickly sets to work.

Although he is acutely aware of every swoosh of Marybeth’s scissors, James is a million years away, stuck on a memory. In his head, he thinks of a summer night in 1937. It’s been just a few months since Sarah passed, and Steve is still a wreck. He acts like he’s okay, but at night, in the quiet of their shared bed, Bucky can feel him shaking. It’s been hard for them both.

Today though, Steve hasn’t been sick in weeks and Bucky just got the first paycheck from his new job. He insists that they go out dancing, and so they do. 

Of course, Bucky is able to get the first girl he lays eyes on to dance with him. Steve sits in the corner by himself, and although Bucky’s girl is the most beautiful one in the room, Bucky can’t stop looking over at him.

Finally, in the early hours of the morning, they leave the dance hall. When the girl asks to stay the night, Bucky politely declines, making some excuse about work.

Bucky’s buzzed from cheap alcohol, but not drunk. He still leans on Steve, wrapping an arm around him as they walk home. Steve’s ribbing him about something, but all Bucky can do is stare into his eye. They were so blue.

They get home quickly, and as they’re hanging up their coats, Bucky turns to face him. “Hey, Stevie. Why didn’tcha dance with anyone tonight?” he asks. 

Steve rolls his eyes and shoves at him playfully. “Have ya seen me, Buck? Not many dames linin’ up to dance with someone like me.”

“Come on, Stevie. You saw the look Carol was givin’ ya. She totally would have danced with you if you’d asked her. What’s the real reason?”

Steve starts fiddling with his shirt sleeve, which is something he does when he gets embarrassed or nervous. “Well, I can’t exactly dance with a girl if I’ve never danced with anyone before, can I?” he finally spits out.

“Aw hell, Steve! Why didn’tcha say anything!” Bucky exclaimed, “Ya know I’d teach ya!”

Steve scrunches his face up. “Really?”

“Yep. Let’s do it right now.”

“Aw, Buck. You don’t hafta.”

“I know, but I can’t leave my best pal not knowing how to dance.”

Steve makes to protest, but Bucky’s already crossing their apartment to the tiny radio sitting on top of the bookshelf. He turns it on, and a slow, jazzy song that James has long since forgotten drifts through the speakers. He turns around and flashes Steve a toothy grin. 

Bucky walks until he’s standing right before Steve. “I’ll lead first. Just follow what I do, okay?”

Steve nods and lets Bucky wrap an arm around his narrow waist. He tenses at first but soon melts into the touch, letting his head rest on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky gently takes Steve’s small hand in his, and soon they are just swaying to the music. 

James remembers being so so scared that he was going to do something stupid, like lean down and kiss Steve on his perfect lips. 

Instead, he just holds him, cherishing the moment. Knowing that this is the closest he will ever get.

The song ended all too quickly, and Bucky broke them apart, saying something dumb, like, “Now do you get it?”

Steve just blushed and nodded. 

James was brought back to reality when Marybeth starts working on his beard. Even though he hadn’t paid for a shave, the model in the picture he had chosen had closely cropped facial hair. He tries to smile through the mirror at her in a silent ‘thanks’ as she trims his thick beard to resemble the one in the picture.

The memory is still raw, and pain constricts his heart like a vice. He grits his teeth and keeps his face neutral. 

A few minutes later, Marybeth announces that she’s finished, and James studies his reflection in the mirror. With the shorter hair, he looks completely different. “Perfect,” he says and means it. 

Marybeth accepts his generous tip with an accented “thank you!” and tells him to come again soon. Although he will do no such thing, he nods at her anyway before walking away.

Shelby smiles at him as he walks by the desk, but he doesn’t have the energy to try and return it. He fishes the baseball cap he had stuffed into his backpack out and puts it on, pulling the brim down low. 

As he’s walking down the street, James pulls out his iPod. It was a present from Sam, and until now, he had only used it a handful of times.

Sam had automatically installed Marvin Gaye’s Trouble Man album, but at James’s request, he had also installed a bunch of popular songs from the 30s and 40s. His memory gaps prevented James from being able to place most of them, but something about them always felt familiar to him regardless.

He pulled out a set of earbuds as well and plugged them in. Soon, he was surrounded by the opening chords to Moonlight Serenade by Glenn Miller, which was one of his favorites. He can almost remember himself spinning some girl around to it in a crowded dance hall, but the memory is just out of reach.

He shoves the iPod into his pants pocket and gets onto Steve’s motorcycle.

~~~~~

James had been driving for about 20 minutes when a song came on that had him pulling off to the side of the road and wrenching his iPod out so he could see the screen. He was 10 seconds into Girl of My Dreams by Glen Gray. It was the song, the one he had danced to all those years ago; James was sure of it now. He just sat there for a few minutes, just letting the song wash over him.

James put the song on repeat and listened to it a couple dozen times before pulling over and deleting it from the playlist. 

He keeps driving until he reaches Brooklyn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Here is what I imagined James would look like with his new hair cut:  
> https://www.thehairstyler.com/mens-hairstyles/casual/short/straight/sebastian-stan-haircut 
> 
> Also, I would highly recommend listening to Girl of My Dreams by Glen Gray. It's a really sweet song to imagine Steve and Bucky dancing to. You can find it on youtube!


	6. Breakeven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James enjoys his first day in Brooklyn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Breakeven - The Script
> 
> Hello! Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to comment suggestions or constructive criticism. I'm honestly just trying to write this story the best that I can, so if you have a way to add to it or make it better, I'd love to hear it! Anyway, enjoy!

#6

Walking around the streets of Brooklyn was cathartic for James. Although present-day Brooklyn was far different than the city he fuzzily remembered from his childhood, the constant noise was achingly familiar to him.

In upstate New York, the silence was almost oppressive. Here, everywhere around him was bright and loud and alive. It was like he could feel the pulse of the city itself. He immediately felt more at home in Brooklyn than anywhere else he had been in over 70 years. 

His first task is to find a place to stay. he needs a lot less sleep than the average person, but he wanted to be sharp and alert in case he encountered any danger during his travels.

He chooses a cheap motel even though he has enough money to stay anywhere he wants. The key is to keep a low profile. He can’t afford to attract unneeded attention.

The cracked tiles in the bathroom are an offensive green color, but he’s still able to turn the shower up to nearly scalding for as long as he wants.

That’s another thing James has learned since being free from Hydra. He hates the cold. Near the beginning, he would wake up from nightmares with his teeth chattering, and a chill set deep in his bones. The only thing that helped was the shower. He would turn the water up as hot as it would go, and sit fully dressed under the stream until the memory of cryo or the snowy alps was burned out of him. 

Thankfully he hadn’t had a nightmare that bad in months but he was still glad the option was there.

He began to set up his room to his liking. He started by moving the queen bed away from the windows and then tucked a loaded handgun underneath his pillow. He then searched the entire room for cameras or bugs. 

When his search came up empty, he started to unpack a little bit, putting his few items of clothing into the drawers and taking unnecessary items out of his bag.

It was late evening when James decided to go out and find real food. The last thing he had eaten was the few protein bars he had eaten before he left. 

A small diner was within walking distance from the motel, and something about the tiled walls and bright booths inside made him feel at home. 

A cheerful waitress with sandy blonde hair and a wide smile sat him down at a small table in the back. He selected a plain burger from the menu and decided to add a strawberry milkshake at the last minute. While James couldn’t specifically remember ever drinking one, once he read the words on the menu something clicked inside of him and he felt compelled to order it.

He ate his meal quickly. The milkshake was absolutely delightful, and James quickly jotted it down in the small notebook he had become accustomed to carrying. Not only was it a way to organize the jumbled memory fragments that were always floating around in his brain, but it was also something to ground him when he began to forget. 

He paid for his meal in cash when the check came and threw a sizable tip on the table as well. The waitress smiled at him as he got up to leave, and he managed a small smile back. 

As James walked out of the diner, he felt a prickle on the back of his neck. He knew what that meant. The uncomfortable weight of another person’s gaze. He was being followed. 

He wasn’t sure if he could pinpoint exactly who or what looked out of place, but one look across the street answered his question. 

In the window of the small ice cream shop directly in front of him, was a man sitting alone on a stool facing out into the road. The man had dark skin and was wearing a Mets baseball cap.

What was amiss to James was that he now realized that the same man had been in the same spot for the entirety of his dinner. There wasn’t even any ice cream in front of him; he was just sitting there by himself. Every so often, the men would look his way.

The man would use big, sweeping glances to make it less obvious that he was his point of focus, but James wasn’t stupid. 

He quickly weighed his options. He was almost 100% percent sure that whoever this person was, they were working for SHIELD. Both Sam and Steve probably sounded the alarm the second he left the building. 

As he said, although he might not be locked up in the Avengers Compound, SHIELD didn’t want him out of their sight. One option was to use a payphone to call Steve himself and chew him out for sending someone after him like a babysitter. It would probably be very satisfying to expose Steve like that, and it wouldn’t give the poor SHIELD agent assigned to this task a heart attack.

On the other hand, he could go and confront the person directly. If it was SHIELD, he could still give them a piece of his mind, but he would also have his suspicions confirmed immediately. James’s biggest worry was that the man was a Hydra agent, and by walking away, he would let the spy escape. 

For practicality’s sake, he chose option #2. He strode up to the ice cream shop with practiced ease and confidence. With purpose. The agent knew his cover was blown at this point, but he didn’t move. James didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. He pushed the doors open with more force than necessary and walked right up to the man. 

“Who do you work for,” James asked, his voice low and dangerous.

The man looked up at him. “I bet you’ve figured it out already,” He said, his mouth curving up into a small smile.

When the man’s face moved, James saw it; the uneven distribution of light. A few pixels. The man was wearing a tech mask. 

Without preamble, James grabbed the back of the man’s coat in his left hand and yanked him up. He couldn’t exactly rip off someone’s face in the middle of a crowded shop.

The man didn’t fight as he dragged him into a side alley. They stood facing each other. James had him pressed against the filthy brick wall, pinned by his strong metal arm. With his other hand, he reached up and caught his nails on the man’s temple. As suspected, he felt something peel away. James harshly ripped the paper-thin mask off in one violent motion and threw it onto the alley floor.

When James looked up, the face that greeted him shocked him. Looking back at him, with an amused grin, was Sam Wilson.

“Wilson. Of fucking course!” James yells, “What the hell are you doing here! Steve put you up to this, I bet.”

“Did ya miss me?” He responded cheerily, neither confirming nor denying James’s accusation.

“I swear to God, give me one good reason I shouldn’t snap your neck!” He shoves Sam against the wall again to emphasize his statement. “I’ve been gone for less than a day and I’m already being watched like an incompetent child.”

“I was watching you for a while. You must be slipping,” Sam says snarkily, “I like the haircut by the way. Your old look was getting a little too close to A Swamp Demon.”

James tightened his hold on Sam’s shirt front before letting him go and taking several steps back. He puts his face in his hands in frustration and inhales deeply before facing Sam again. “Well, as you can see, I’m perfectly fine. You can leave now.”

“Ha,” Sam said dryly, “Nice try, but we are both going back to the compound. Now.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” he’s mad now, angry at Steve, at Sam, at himself. “I’m allowed to want things. I’m allowed to want to do things and go places.”

Sam’s face softens. Wanting things was one of the most difficult things James had to re-learn. “It’s not like that. No one is trying to force you to do anything,” he says finally, “I just … I know how you’re feeling, and me and Steve care about you …”

“Are you kidding me?” James interrupts him. “You know how I’m feeling? Really?”

“He left me too, James.”

James turns away. “I’m sorry, but it’s not the same thing. Not even close. And he doesn’t care about me,” He takes a shaky breath. “Never did.”

“Come on, James. You know that’s not true.”

“Really? How could he go out and live his perfect life with his one true love, knowing that I’m out there somewhere? Being hurt, being tortured, for decades? How could he do that? Knowing how much I was suffering, how could he just sit back and let me be ripped apart?”

Sam is silent. 

“Just let me go,” James pleads, “Go back to the compound. Tell Steve you found me, and let me go. I … My entire life was built around Steve. There was no me without him. I need to find out who I am without him. I’ll come back, I promise. I don’t know when, but I’ll come back. I won’t leave you too.”

It takes Sam a minute, but eventually, he nods. “Okay, James. Just don’t stay out here for too long. I’ll sort things out with SHIELD”

James feels a rush of gratitude, and he tells Sam a quick, “Thanks” and means it with his whole heart. Mercifully, Sam knows James’s limits and doesn’t try to go in for a hug. Instead, he offers a mock salute and an easy grin before turning on his heel and leaving James standing in the alley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I hope you liked it! By the way, if it wasn't clear, the mask that Sam is wearing is the one Natasha was wearing during that scene towards the end of Captain America: The Winter Soldier.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Next Chapter:  
> Steve helps Bucky through a nightmare, and they finally have their conversation


End file.
